Page 15 of Drive Me Wild (Owl Creek #2)

I wake up early the next day and head into town, parking in my usual spot at the back of Buzz’s Auto Body.

The rules we set for my education were simple—no penetration and no shame. Those were his rules. No holding back—that was mine.

I walk down the alley on the side of his building and knock on the door. He opens it up with a shit-eating grin and a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

“You sure you want to do this?”

I push past him, reaching for the coffee and taking a swig before handing it back to him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Even though I was up half the night freaking out.

Even though my heart is pounding in my chest. Even though I’m afraid that I will make such a fool of myself that Caleb will back out of our agreement.

Which is pretty one-sided, honestly. Since he said no penetration, I’m not sure what he’s getting out of this.

He locks the side door and I follow him upstairs into the living room. I stand in the middle of the room because I don’t know what to do. He puts down his mug of coffee and then walks over, eases the strap of my purse off my shoulder, and places it on the table. Then he points to the couch.

“Sit.”

His gruff voice stirs my insides. I curl up on the couch with my legs pulled up.

He lowers himself nearby and studies my face. And then he starts talking.

“Men and women are very different when it comes to arousal. Most men don’t need much to get going. But a woman—” he reaches over and pulls my legs out from under me so that they are lying across his lap. “A woman is more complex. She needs time. She needs connection.”

“I don’t need to know how to turn on a woman.”

“You absolutely do.”

“Why? I’m trying to be good in bed for my future husband.”

“Part of being good in bed is wanting to be there in the first place.”

I’m wearing shorts, and I feel his thumb start to caress my knee.

“Was your first boyfriend any good in bed?”

“What?”

“Did he turn you on?”

I’m fighting memories. I was so busy feeling nervous and then ashamed that I never noticed how my body felt.

“I’ll take that silence as a no.”

“I don’t know.”

“Trust me, you would know. Do you know what you like?”

I shake my head.

“Okay. Then, let’s start with the bare bones basics. Lick your bottom lip slowly, and tell me what it feels like.”

I do as I’m told and notice a ticklish feeling blooming across my mouth.

“Soft. And…it tickles.”

“Do you like the feeling?”

“Yeah.”

“The lips have one hundred more nerve endings than our fingers, making them super sensitive. When we kiss, lots of feel-good hormones are released. Now, do it again, but look at my mouth this time while you’re doing it.”

Again, I lick my lips while I study his. They’re full and noticeably smooth. The slightest hint of dark stubble frames his mouth. The hair looks coarse, and I think about what it would feel like scraping against my chin.

“Any different?”

“Yeah. I felt… or… I thought about what it would feel like.”

I notice that his hand has moved just above my knee, and his thumb is now drawing circles inside my thigh. There is a path of gooseflesh where he is touching me.

“Feel like to what?”

“Um…”

“Rule number three. No holding back.”

“Okay. Feel like to kiss you.”

“Tell me about that.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tell me.”

“Well…”

I explain what I saw and felt, and as I do, he raises one hand and caresses my ear lobe. His touch is subtle, but it sets my nerves on high alert. It’s as if he’s touching my whole body all at once. Even my toes are attuned to his fingers as they brush my skin.

I struggle to get the words out, especially because he’s looking at me. Like, really looking at me. He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip, and the alarm system in my body shifts to high gear.

Two hands.

One on my leg and one on my ear.

I fight to get the words out to describe what it would be like to kiss him, and my lady parts are having a party like it’s nineteen ninety-nine. A whimper escapes my mouth, and I see the edge of his mouth curl up in a grin.

“Good. That’s all for today.” He pulls his hands away, and it’s like someone unplugged the heat on a cold winter’s day.

I stare at him as he stands up, grabs his coffee mug, and swallows the last of it. I watch his throat work and imagine running my tongue across the dip where his throat meets his chest.

“That’s it?”

“That—” he points at me, “was a lot. I’m heading down to the shop. You can stay up here and take care of yourself if you need to.”

“Take care of myself?”

“Masturbate. There’s lube in the nightstand in my room, but I have a feeling you won’t need it.”

He placed the mug in the kitchen sink and walked out the door, leaving me with a wet pair of panties and a mind full of ideas.